


somewhere i have never traveled, gladly beyond

by payneclinic



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-08 01:51:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1126981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/payneclinic/pseuds/payneclinic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam and his friends get high a lot, and he’s kind of in love with the boy next door. Windows are broken into, hot chocolate is made, and poems are recited. Niall just wants a grand gesture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	somewhere i have never traveled, gladly beyond

**Author's Note:**

> (A/N): I accidentally wrote a thing? Basically, it’s a 2.8k Niam fic that came about based on my obsession with That 70’s Show, the poem I had to read for class, and my intense need for someone to actually write a dynamic Niall character. It’s messy and awkward, but oh well!

 

                Liam walks downstairs to find four boys sprawled over his couch, mindlessly channel-surfing and chatting. And he’s not concerned about the fact that they somehow got home before him. Or that they let themselves in. Or that they’ve all got beers in their hands. To be completely honest, he’d be worried if they didn’t.

                This is his gang. His own personal island of misfit toys. He’s got Zayn, his stoner best friend who somehow manages to win everyone over. Harry, the youngest of the group, who succeeds in being spoiled rotten and incredibly sweet at the same time. Louis, the poor-decision-making yet incredibly funny tosser. And then there’s Niall. The ultimate boy-next-door with the dyed-blonde hair and the cute little laugh. And yeah, okay, he’s been in love with him since they were five. It’s totally not obvious.

                “And then he said that I was failing gym, which is impossible since I haven’t gone once this year! How unfair is that?” Louis whines from the couch.

                Liam just rolls his eyes at him and sits down next to Niall. About half an hour into this stupid TV show, they all get restless. Niall’s leg is twitching a mile a minute, Louis won’t stop poking at Zayn, and Harry’s refreshed twitter at least ten times now. So he makes an executive decision.

                It takes all of two seconds before they’re sitting in the oh-so-familiar circle with a pleasant green haze in their lungs and a lovely fuzziness in their heads. Liam may or may not be moving in slow motion when he leans over and nuzzles into Niall’s neck.

                “This one always acts like a puppy when he’s high,” Niall laughs to the others. “Cuddles all around, eh Payno?”

                “Only seems to cuddle you, Nialler.” Zayn drawls.

                Niall pets his hair a bit at that. “That’s because I’m his favorite.” He says easily. The lads chuckle, but Liam catches it when Niall whispers. “You’re my favorite, too, ya goof.”

                “Who’s favorite am I?” Harry whines from the opposite couch.

                He looks at Louis expectantly, who just shakes his head. “Don’t look at me, I’m my own favorite!”

                “You’re all just bitter because I’m prettiest.” He huffs.

                And then they’re all laughing, and Liam’s not sure if this happiness bubbling within him is from the weed, having his best friends with him, or that the love of his life (he’s pretty sure) is half-lying on him. He decides it’s probably a combination of all of them, but mostly the latter.

 

 

                The day Niall finds out isn’t exactly what Liam was expecting. He’s sat in the basement with Louis, talking about Niall. In retrospect this was probably his first mistake, considering Louis keeps a secret about as well as a small child.

                “Louis, he’s like so pretty and happy and nice and funny and _pretty_ , he’s really fucking pretty.”

                Louis just shakes his head. “So you fancy him or what?”

                And that’s when Niall thumps down the stairs and flings himself on the couch next to Liam.

                “Who does Liam fancy?” he asks, quirking his head toward Louis.

                Louis just shrugs and says, “You.” There it is. He’s done it now. Worlds are collapsing. Air is escaping him. His heart is bursting. There’s a roaring in his ears. He might be having a stroke.

                Niall smiles a bit to himself, ruffles Liam’s hair and says “Good.”

                And Liam just about physically implodes because _good?_ He sits there stupidly for about ten minutes, turning the word over in his mind until it doesn’t even sound like a word. Niall and Louis turn their attention back to the TV, but Niall’s got a hand carding through his hair and it may or may not be the only thing keeping him on planet Earth. He doesn’t really snap out of it until Zayn and Harry come bounding in, arguing about something or another. “Hey, did you guys break Liam?” Harry asks, poking Liam in the face.

                “Nah, just told Niall here that Liam fancied him. He hasn’t moved, might be a stroke.”

                Liam kind of hates his friends because they shrug it off like it’s not earth-shattering and go about their business as if Liam’s not in the middle of a crisis. But then they’re lighting up and everything’s fuzzy and he loves them again.

 

 

                Three days later and Liam’s still kind of hung up on the ‘good’ situation. He’s lying in his bed when he hears a knock on his window. Which is a _little_ odd considering he’s on the second story. But he pulls the window open anyway and is met with an armful of blonde boy.

                “Hi.”

                “Honestly, Niall, the _window_?”

                “The front door is boring. Gotta live a little, Li.”

                “How did you even – ”

                “Liam, it is one in the morning and the boy of your dreams just came in through your window. Shouldn’t you be doing a little less questioning and a little more fawning?”

                Liam can’t help but whimper. “You’re insufferable.”

                “Insufferably attractive, sure,” Niall amends, wiggling his eyebrows.

                Liam doesn’t really know how to respond after that. He just sort of plops back down on his bed and decides to let Niall choose what they’ll be doing, like he usually does. It turns into a bit of an elongated silence when Niall perches himself on the other end of the bed and stares intently at Liam for a moment or two. Liam trains his eyes on the still-open window, but he can still feel eyes on him, like he was being studied.

                “I’m sleeping here tonight.” Niall declares.

                Liam opens his mouth, closes it again, and then asks, “Is this the point where I’m not supposed to ask questions?”

                “Aha! You’re catching on quite quick, but then you always have been a fast learner. Now budge up and quit hogging all the covers.” Niall squirms his way under the covers right next to Liam. Liam stays pretty much motionless as he feels the boy fidget next to him. “Jesus, Liam, make a move!” Niall finally mutters.

                “You _want_ me to make a move?” He asks, incredulous.

                “I want you to try!”

                Though he knows Niall can’t see him, Liam rolls his eyes. “What’s the point?”

                “The _point_?” Niall asked, almost sounding offended.

                “Yeah, it doesn’t matter if I make a move or not because you already know how I feel and I obviously know how you feel, so – ”

                “I’m gonna stop you right there,” Niall interrupts. “You have no idea how I feel, I haven’t _told_ you anything.”

                “Exactly, you haven’t told me anything. So it’s best for everyone involved if I assume the worst.”

                “Well what if it’s not the worst? What if it’s the best and I’m just waiting?”

                Liam rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help but ask, “Waiting for what, exactly?”

                “My grand gesture.”

                “Your _what_?”

                “Y’know, like in Disney movies when a prince works so hard to get the princess and he’s just about to give up but then he does something fantastic and she finally tells him she loves him and they live happily ever after. Like Beauty and the Beast.”

                “Let me get this straight. You want me to _woo_ you?”

                Niall chuckles lightly. “Well put, Liam! Yes, I want you to woo me.”

                “Like with flowers and such?”

                “Flowers, chocolates, poems, a library, whatever you see fit.”

                It took Liam a bit to respond. “Ok, so say I do it. I go the whole nine yards and woo you. Then what?”

                “Happily ever after, obviously. Keep up, Liam.”

                “So you’re saying that if I _court_ you, you’ll date me?”

                “Precisely! You should probably begin right now by cuddling me until we fall asleep.”

                Honestly, Liam had obeyed Niall’s request before his brain even fully processed it. It was like a knee-jerk reaction, Niall asked for something and Liam did it. He opened his arms and turned towards the boy, who immediately sprawled on top of him and threw his arms around Liam’s neck. And everything that’s all jumbled up in his head right now can wait until the morning, because he’s got this pretty little blonde boy in his arms asking him to be his prince charming and it’s kind of all he’s ever wanted.

                Liam’ll admit that he’s a little surprised to find Niall still in his bed when he wakes up. He half expected him to climb back out the window, back to whatever dream land he belongs in. Liam looks down and is almost offended by how pretty Niall looks mid-slumber. _Of-fucking-course_ , he thinks, _the boy_ never _looks anything less than perfect. You’re out of your league, Liam Payne._ He’s about to mentally scold himself more when he feels Niall stirring.

                “Liam, I can hear you thinking from here. I know I look pretty when I sleep, get over it,” he grumbles.

                Liam would be embarrassed but he can’t find it in himself because _what in the actual fuck? Now he’s psychic too? Why didn’t he know this?_

                “I’m not psychic, Liam, I just know you. I bet you could do it with me, too,” he huffs. “What am I thinking about right now?”

                Liam hesitates for a second, but he’s pretty confident he knows the answer. “You’re probably upset with me for hesitating just now and a little annoyed that you’re up this early on a Saturday. You’re wondering if my parents are home so you know whether or not you have to climb back out the window. They aren’t, by the way, so you can use the front door like a normal person. Oh, and you want me to make you hot chocolate?”

                Niall chuckles a bit, nodding his head. “Very good, Liam! Though you did miss the fact that I kind of have to piss. But I won’t hold it against you.” With that, Niall pops out of bed and into the bathroom. Liam takes this as his cue to go downstairs and make that hot chocolate. He’s got two mugs set out – Niall’s is filled to the brim with marshmallows and whipped cream on top, of course – when Niall bounces down the stairs to sit at the table. “Would you look at this? This is beautiful, Payno. Truly. This is how you woo a bloke!”

                And it should be a funny thing that Liam can laugh about but it’s just not. Maybe because it’s too real, or maybe because he’s just so gone for this little blonde boy. Either way, it just has Liam blushing furiously and dropping his eyes to the floor. It’s insane how much power Niall has over him.

                Something about the situation reminds him of his favorite poem by E.E. Cummings. _Somewhere I Have Never Travelled_. He begins reciting the poem in his head and remembers why it’s his favorite poem. It reminds him of Niall. He’s fully zoned out by the third stanza. Niall looks up from his hot chocolate and just shakes his head fondly. “Liam?” He tries, but with no response. “Liam?... Liam, I’m sorry for teasing you. I really don’t mean to upset you.”

                “Not upset, just a bit scared and maybe insane.” He responses.

                “I understand that you’re scared, Liam, but _insane_? Why’s that?”

                Liam shrugs, kicking his feet against the table legs. “I’m pretty sure I was just reciting poetry in my head.”

                “And why exactly does that make you insane?”

                “Have you ever recited poetry in your head?”

                “No, but that’s only because I’m not mature enough to read it, clever enough to understand it, or smart enough to memorize it. But you are all of those things, so I’d really appreciate it if you enlightened me of this beautiful poem.”

                “Uh, it’s uh, kind of long.”

                “Please, Liam. How about if you only have to recite your favorite verse? I just want to hear it.” And really who is Liam to turn down this pleading cherub? So he takes a deep breath and does as Niall asked, as always.

                “Nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility: whose texture compels me with the color of its countries, rendering death and forever with each breathing.”

                Niall hooks Liam’s foot with his own under the table. “Those were beautiful words, Liam. Now tell me what they mean, please.”

                “Well, the author – ”

                “I don’t care what they mean to the author, I care what they mean to you.”

                “I guess to me it kind of reminds me of you. ‘Nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility’ is basically how I feel about you. Like, to me you’re so fragile, but instead of that being a weakness it gives you this power over me. And it’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced. ‘Compels me with the color of its countries’ is easy to associate with you, because you’re such a proud Irishman. And then he says ‘rendering death and forever with each breathing,’ which sounds morbid but is actually really romantic, I think. Like, you essentially mean everything to me, and in my eyes you could control everything. So yeah.” Niall nods, takes a deep breath, and _holy shit this is it. He’s gonna say I’m a weird creep and he doesn’t want to hang out with me anymore._

                “Liam James Payne, I am going to kiss you right now. And I’m not going to stop for a very long time – possibly ever. That was the single greatest thing anyone’s ever said to me and I think I should also tell you that I’m really fucking in love with you. Probably have been for about twelve years now. I’ve just been waiting for you to notice.”

                Liam’s really trying not to pass out as Niall carefully walks over to his side of the table and plops in his lap, taking his face in his hands and kissing him. He thinks he might be going into cardiac arrest, but he’ll be damned if he _ever_ lets Niall kiss him without kissing back. So he just does it. He forgets everything that’s going on in his head and focuses completely on the perfect boy in his lap who’s kissing him like he’s the most special guy in the world.

                Soon Niall’s getting up and tugging on his sleeve, hauling Liam down to his bedroom. He goes willingly, sitting down first on his bed to pull Niall on top of him. They spend a lot of time there, just kissing and lacing their fingers together. And it’s like Niall’s this pleasant weight on his chest, this beautifully delicate being in his arms, this soft presence against his skin that he can’t get enough of. Liam pulls back maybe thirty minutes later (or maybe thirty days later, who’s counting), when he feels that Niall is sufficiently breathless and his hair is satisfactorily disheveled.

                “So we’ve wasted twelve years, then.” He says.

                “Hmm?” Niall hums.

                “Well you said you’ve been in love with me for twelve years, which would date us back to when we were five, which coincidentally is the year I’m pretty sure I decided I was gonna marry you.”

                “No kidding?” Niall asks, smile wide.

                “Yeah. But what I don’t get is why the pretense of ‘wooing’ was in place?”

                Niall just shrugs. “I had to make sure.”

                “Make sure of what?”

                “Make sure I wasn’t just some silly little crush to you. Or like a phase. I had to make sure you were in this for the long haul, because Lord knows I am. So I was gonna make you work, just to see if you really wanted it as much as I do. But then you recited that poem for me and about one hundred percent of my resolve went out the window.”

                Liam sighs and strokes a thumb over Niall’s cheekbone. “Niall, you could never be just a crush. I don’t think anyone who’s ever met you hasn’t fallen in love, at least for a little while. It’s so incredibly impossible not to love you.” Niall just smiles his shy smile and ducks his head into Liam’s neck.

                “You know the boys are gonna give us shit tonight, yeah?”

                “Yeah, but I kinda don’t care as long as you’re there.”

                The boys do give them hell. Zayn hands Harry a tenner for losing their bet on when the two would hook up, Louis brags that all of it was his making, and Harry complains that even Liam’s found his soul mate before him. But the teasing is all out of love, they suppose, so it’s all alright. And Niall sits in Liam’s lap when they light up, cuddling into his side and shotgunning into his lungs. It’s a new experience, but it feels oddly familiar to Liam. Like somehow he was meant to be hotboxing his basement with his three best mates and the love of his life. Maybe he should write a poem about it.


End file.
